


Just another day's work

by Inspieos



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Elizabeth Keen being a badass woman, Elizabeth taking care of an injured Red, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Horrible Tom Keen as a terrible husband, Lizzington - Freeform, Post 1x10, Slow Burn, Smut, This isn't Keen2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspieos/pseuds/Inspieos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is written for jadenanne7, and is part of the Secret Santa challenge at Lizzington Shippers on Facebook. </p><p>The story picks up right after Lizzy and Tom's conversation in the car in 1x10 and deals with the consequences of that day's events. Multiple chapters. Eventual Lizzington, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The rookie FBI agent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadenanne7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadenanne7/gifts).



Reddington got out. While entering her apartment, her hand mindlessly rubs her neck. Today’s events are on her mind. _He_ is on her mind. Him, laying helplessly on a stretcher in that ambulance, a woman pulling the chip from his neck – it was the last time she’d seen him, yet... even in that fleeting moment, he was protecting her, saving her.  
  
He got out, but she doesn’t know where he is and what state he is in. Nobody does. Not yet, at least.  
  
She exhales sharply. Her body aches all over, yearning for the comfort of her warm bed upstairs. Not knowing where he is worries her. _She_ was the reason why he came out of the box in the first place. If she hadn’t been caught, hadn’t even been there, things could’ve been different. Maybe. But she doesn’t want to think about that. If she hadn’t been there, Reddington would’ve stayed in the box, and Ressler might’ve died. Other colleagues might’ve died as well. _Dembe_ would’ve died.  
  
Her mind is momentarily distracted when Hudson approaches her fast, excited to greet his master. She pets him, both welcoming and embracing the distraction. She smiles warmly and tells him over and over that he’s a good boy. When she makes her way up, Hudson is in pursuit. The smile slowly falters. He eventually beats her to the bed, rolling around as if nothing eventful has happened today.  
  
After their argument in the car, Tom had reluctantly gone back to work. He’d been worried about her, worried about their future. He told her he needed her, but he wanted to leave – right away, just when she was making something of her life. His fear was understandable, but could she give it up? Having the privilege to work together with none other than Raymond Reddington and doing something _good_ with her life?  
  
Elizabeth decides to freshen herself up before going to bed, but she ends up staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The blood on her face - some of it must be her own, some.... not. She curiously touches the wound near her left eyebrow and feels a sharp sting. She winches slightly.  
  
After a thorough inspection and a hot shower, she puts on something comfortable to sleep in and patches herself up, putting a clean bandage around her injured left hand. Maybe Tom is right. Maybe she needs to walk away before her job destroys her, before Reddington destroys her. She tries to supresses a yawn when she enters her bedroom, but fatigue is slowly starting to take a hold of her, as it already has with Hudson.  
  
She turns, turns, and turns around in her bed, unable to fall asleep, her mind still preoccupied, wondering. When she thinks she has finally found a comfortable position, a very distinct sound comes from downstairs that immediately alerts her: the shattering of glass. Hudson must’ve heard it as well because he immediately wakes from his slumber, alarmed and ready. The shattering is followed by a loud thud, and the little dog gets up, speeding towards the door while barking as loud as he can.  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding me”, Elizabeth utters underneath her breath as she sits up and grabs her gun.  
  
She heads downstairs – slowly, carefully, with Hudson following her every step of the way.  There seems to be no sight of the intruder in the living room. Everything even seems untouched. Wondering who it could be and where they are, she anxiously chews onto her lower lip. She feels she’s getting close when she makes her way to the kitchen.  
  
There, near the kitchen door, appears a gut-wrenching sight right in front of her. 


	2. In a heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth tries to take care of an injured Red, but Tom interferes.

There, near the kitchen door, appears a gut-wrenching sight right in front of her.

* * *

“Oh no”, she gasps, and a hand shakily covers her mouth as she slowly approaches him. Her eyes are focused on what lies in front of her, _solely_ focused on what is in front of her. Each step is a step closer to him. The muscles in the pit of her stomach tense - clenching, tightening of dread when she sees more of him with each step she takes. Tears begin to well up in her eyes. _He’s lying on her kitchen floor. Not moving. Eyes closed._ When she sees his bloodied hands, she shakes her head and firmly closes her eyes, hoping to shut out reality. _This isn’t happening_. Tears start to roll down her cheeks _._ _This isn’t real. This is just a bad, bad dream._  
  
Hudson had already left her side, having sped away immediately after he had recognized the man’s scent. His tiny paws brought him right in front of their visitor’s limp body. Hudson’s tail wags enthusiastically, uncontrollably, to the left and right. He doesn’t bark. Not even once. Instead, now having recognized the scent of _a friend_ , Hudson starts to smother the man with love, licking his face. A loud, protesting groan follows, which forces Elizabeth to open her eyes. He then calls out to her, her name being nothing more than a soft whisper, and she can’t help but feel relieved, her tears of sorrow almost changing into tears of joy.  
  
He’s alive.  
  
“Lizzy”, he manages to call out again despite finding it difficult to breathe, but he had to say her name again, to have _his_ nickname for her leave his lips just one more time. A hint of a smile is visible. He’s glad to be here, with her – finally safe. A bloodied hand stretches out towards her. She sits down beside him in a heartbeat, taking the offer of his hand and holding it close to her. He closes his eyes, and the smile is still present, but it’s obvious that he’s suffering.  
  
“Red”, she breathes, thankful that he’s still with her. Her other hand starts to gently caress his face. She’s mindful of his injuries, but he flinches at her touch nonetheless, groaning softly until her warm hand leaves his already flushed skin.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hu-“  
  
He resolutely shakes his head despite the immense pain. He doesn’t want her to grow even more concerned, but she remains silent, so he opens his eyes and stares intently at her, causing her to swallow hard. Hoping to reassure her, he squeezes her hand lightly and wipes a tear from her cheek before cupping her face.  
  
Elizabeth lets out a sigh and says apologetically, “We looked for you, but we were too late.”  
  
“It’s okay”, he replies with heavy-lidded eyes.  
  
A brief moment of silence passes, but the two find comfort in each other’s presence, in their current closeness.  
  
“How bad is it?”, she asks when she’s ready. Her voice is cautious, still dreading.  
  
“Bad,” he withdraws his hand and clears his throat, being almost unable to speak, “For now.”  
  
“Can you walk?”  
  
“Barely.”  
  
She worryingly furrows her eyebrows. “What if I helped you? Would you be okay with that?”  
  
“Lizzy-“, he starts to protest.  
  
“I know you’re in pain, but you can’t spend the night on the kitchen floor. You need to be somewhere comfortable”, she interrupts him, her voice firm to let him know that he can’t change her mind.  
  
“Why not? It sounds rather pleasant, actually”, he tries, attempting to make light of the situation.  
  
“Red,” she warns him, and he instantly knows he’s not going to win this argument, he never was, and even he knows that he’s not making any sense right now. A defeated smile appears on his face instead, and he nods.  
  
“Hold on tight”, she orders him after helping him stand and placing an arm around his waist.  
  
He doesn’t object. He tries to suppress the groans that rise from his throat every now and then, not wanting to come across as ungrateful and not wanting to upset her, but some escape anyway. He can’t help himself; his entire body aches and is in constant pain. Her touch, however gentle, kind, and welcome, makes it worse – much worse, but he knows she’s trying to help him, which is something she shouldn’t have to do. He is the one who barged into her house.  
  
“What is he doing here?”  
  
Making it all the way upstairs had proven to be a difficult and slow task. Very slow, in fact, because she had tried her very best not to hurt him too much, to not inflict too much pain, so they were now almost midway.  
  
“Tom”, Elizabeth acknowledges - part thankful, but also part horrified. He had wanted to leave, to escape Reddington’s grasp, yet here she was, helping the man who Tom probably deemed his archenemy.  
  
“Yes. You know, the man who’s supposed to be your _husband_ ,” he replies bitterly, emphasizing the latter part while gritting his teeth. He points towards Red, even though she can’t see this, “What is _he_ doing here?”  
  
She shoots Tom an annoyed look over her shoulder, “He’s injured.”  
  
“So, we’re just taking the old dog in?”  
  
“It’s more complicated than that, but yes, we are taking the old dog in.”  
  
Another look is directed at her husband while she feels Reddington’s piercing eyes on her. She straightaway realizes she just put herself between these two alpha males, which is a situation she’d rather not be in – especially now.  
  
“Liz-“  
  
“Stop standing around. Help him up the stairs instead, _husband._ We’ll talk about this later”, she spits at him, her patience running thin.  
  
Tom loudly exhales to show his dismay and reluctance before aiding his wife.  
  
They carefully set Red down onto the bed. Tom immediately disappears after that, but Elizabeth stays to help Red get under the covers.  
  
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to make this difficult for you. I shouldn’t have come here”, he apologizes, his gaze directed at the door for a couple of seconds before facing her.  
  
“Don’t. You’re always there for me, so it’s only fair that I return the favour. I mean,” she scoffs lightly, still unable to fully comprehend it, ”You even came out of the box for me. This is the least I can do for you.”  
  
It’s initially said with a smile – casually because she hadn’t meant for it to mean anything, but then their eyes meet again, their gazes lock, and she suddenly notices the intensity of his stare. Her smile falters instantly and her cheeks heat up.  
  
“Why did you...?”, her voice trails off. She continues to stare at him, slightly bewildered, her lips slowly parting, but she’s unable to finish her sentence. Her curiosity is getting the better of her, but does she even want to know the answer? He, the concierge of crime, must be able to easily read her confusion and doubt, but he seems enticed by her, speechless - just like her, with his eyes glued to hers. Why did he come out of the box for her? He was safe. Secure. He could’ve just let Anslo kill her. But he didn’t. Why? Why save her life? What is his fascination with her? Red, however, remains silent. He doesn’t provide her with any answers. Not yet. Not to the question she hasn’t asked him yet. He simply smiles at her in response - the sad, non-genuine smile he has often given her when he felt hesitant, unsure even. She knows because it lacks its usual twinkle. Red is a man who carries his heart on his sleeve, even though he’d beg to differ. He’s filled to the brim with emotions.  
  
“LIZ!”, a voice suddenly yells, breaking them and whatever moment they shared apart.  
  
“I’ll be right back. He’ll watch over you in the meantime”, she says, scratching Hudson on that sweet spot behind his ears before leaving. Hudson, of course, had loyally followed them when they moved Red.  
  
Tom is impatiently waiting for her downstairs, with his arms crossed in front of his chest, tapping his foot on the floor. He looks up when he hears Elizabeth coming down the stairs.  
  
“Why is he here?”, he hisses, hoping to have a private discussion with his wife.  
  
“I don’t know. He just is.”  
  
“You expect me to believe that?” Tom says as he places his hand on his hips, trying to affirm a more dominant stance.  
  
Elizabeth, in return, folds her arms, cocking her head slightly. “What do you want me to say, Tom? That I deliberately brought him here?”  
  
“You weren’t planning on leaving with me, were you?”  
  
“What? Where did that come from?”  
  
“You hesitated when I asked you earlier today.”  
  
“This is my life, my job,” her voice rises in disbelief, “How can you expect me to just abandon everything in a heartbeat? I need time to-”  
  
“It’s not that hard,” he leans in, almost eerily whispering now, “You just _do_ it _–_ for us.”  
  
He promptly leaves, closing the front door with a loud bang like a small child would do when experiencing one of its tantrums.  
  
Once Elizabeth manages to compose herself, she finds Red upstairs trying to get out of bed – and failing miserably: he’s muttering something under his breath and his body is shaking uncontrollably. She rushes to him and holds him back by planting a firm hand on his shoulder, “What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Red lets himself be pushed back onto the bed without any complaints, and Elizabeth sits beside him on the very edge, eying him from top to toe. He’s wearing his normal white dress shirt. It’s crumpled and covered in blood here and there, especially the collar. Though, his sleeves are still neatly rolled up. His waistcoat, usually elegant and well fitted, is now riding up his chest. The lower half of his body seems oddly untouched – not a speck of blood is visible.  
  
“He shouldn’t speak to you like that”, Red tells her. The anger in his voice is palpable, and his eyes are dangerously alert for a man in his situation.  
  
“You should be resting”, she tells him with a small, sad smile, brushing it aside. She knows he’s right. Of course, he’s right.  
  
“Elizabeth-“, he sounds stern, but his eyes show a softness, unlike anything she’s ever seen of him, with his common cold expression seemingly foreign and belonging to another man. It’s similar to the look he gave her just before they opened the box.  
  
“It’s not your place to say something, Reddington.”  
  
He holds his tongue – for her, for the way her eyes plead him to let it go. He licks his lips, slowly, deliberately, trying to reduce the anger he feels within before nodding once in agreement, but his eyes are still on her, cautious, watching her, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is my obvious dislike towards Tom too visible in certain places? 
> 
> Anyway, I'm sorry for the late update, but I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I do wonder who has just broken into her house, hmmm? ;)


End file.
